In the depths of my despair, in the midst of my self doubt, you recalled to me the story of the Three Musketeers, a reference I found so startling, and so connected to the story I had told you that it shook me entirely of that depressive spiral I was in.

You told me stories the same way my family once did as a child, and it brought back memories of those times, memories of feeling protected and cherished.

You connect me to the bridges of my past, to the transient phases of my present.

I appreciate that, I really do.

The nicest words, the nicest phrases often come in the most unexpected of moments, at times when you need it the most.

God has a way of highlighting those times.

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About Me

Words are my reality and my escape. My words are vague, filled with unknown meaning, sometimes written in the dead of the night in the hours spent hovering between sleep and consciousness. You choose the paths you take, the roads you tread - and as Mr Frost said, that made all the difference.